The groans that Rocco elicited from my wife were deep and shameless; they were the sounds of self-surrender as she pushed back against him and put her pussy ecstatically on offer. He didn’t need to tell her to beg. She did it all on her own. “Please fuck meeeeeee,” she sobbed, her voice staccato from the friction on her inflamed nub. “Just don’t cum ins– oooooh!”
My wife’s words became mere babbling when Rocco’s dick dropped into her distended pussy. He rode her high from behind, squatting on top of her ass to ensure that her delicate parts had no defense to his rude invasion. His position astride her ass gave him the angle he needed to wedge himself into her like a door stop. My wife wailed as he tore up her sloppy tunnel, throwing his weight behind every jab of his hard dick. Cindy trembled, the muscles in her legs twitching with anticipation as she climbed the heights of arousal. Rocco’s girth must have put severe pressure on her vaginal walls because he was prying her sore pussy lips apart like a pistacio shell and leaving her most intimate area on vulgar display.
“Make me cum!” Cindy groaned, her voice so feral it didn’t even sound like her. “But don’t cum inside me!”
That time, she managed to get it out. Rocco said nothing, but the parents across the parking lot tittered. A few of them held up money like they were taking side bets.
From the darkness on the other side of the lot, I saw our so-called friends for the traitors they are. It wasn’t just Bob and Bridget. It was all of them. They all treated Cindy’s public disgrace like it was fantasy football.
Perhaps I should have considered whether I am any better. But instead my heightened hearing picked up Uncle Anthony saying something about Cindy that arrested my attention. “I didn’t even need to use my hand,” he said dismissively. “I knew those puppies were fake just from the damn grabber thing.”
A clamor went up from the crowd. I could hear Bridget, Madison and the other hockey moms laughing louder than the men.
When the air suddenly became chilled, and my sweat felt like melting snowflakes against the feverish heat of my face, I knew I had confirmation of my theory. Even before she was my wife, I always thought Cindy was just some all-natural, corn-fed mid-western girl with the big beautiful breasts that God gave her. Now I knew she had some silicone help — a secret she never divulged to me in all our years of marriage.
I should have known. For a thousand reasons, I should have known. Fuck, Uncle Anthony could tell just by using that robot arm. I should have known but I didn’t. It came as a shocking revelation, which made me realize how much I still had to learn about the woman I married. I was determined to keep digging. I still had questions about that message that Ms. McKenzie had left in her yearbook. What else was she hiding?
“Make me cum!” Cindy squawked impatiently, her entire body shuddering from the impact of Rocco’s ramrod every time he drove it home. “Hurry, my husband will be wondering where I am.”
“When I’m fucking you, bitch, you don’t have a husband,” Rocco beefed, squeezing her rings tighter in his fist.
What happened next gutted me. While Rocco’s body cam streamed him running his cock through my wife like a log through a sawmill, he took that clenched fist and thumped it against her ass. Then he did it again. The man wasn’t spanking her any longer; he was punching her ass with a closed fist. Each thwap of his knuckles against my wife’s firm behind rocked me. Cindy was taking a pounding like I had never seen before. Indecent moans poured out of her mouth as Rocco piped her down with that squash-sized penis while his fist drubbed her rump. He kept fucking her like that until she was babbling like a baby, her lustful screams strangled in her throat.
I stepped off the edge of the pavement, where I couldn’t be seen by anyone else, and unzipped my fly. My dick had been so hard for so long that my balls were tight and sore, aching for an overdue release. I stroked the tip gently with two fingers and my thumb, stimulating pleasure centers in my brain until the warm, tingling sensations felt like I was wearing a hat.
While I gratified myself, Rocco’s thrusting grew faster and he closed his eyes. I could tell he was preparing to make my wife his broodmare.
Cindy must have felt it, too, because she called out to him, “Don’t… cum inside me… baby. Shoot it all over… my ass.”
She struggled to speak, stammering every time the man she just called “baby” embedded his fist in her splotchy pink skin, hitting that heart-shaped little ass like he would a sparring glove.
“Only if you don’t cum first,” Rocco replied. He sounded cocky, but I could detect the strain in his voice and I could see that his strokes were becoming more erratic.
He punctuated those words with one last punch, keeping his wrist locked and his ebow tucked, as he continued squat-humping the mother of my child from behind. Rocco’s implied threat to inseminate my wife raised the thrum of chattering parents to a fever pitch — so loud it momentarily drowned out the DJ.
Cindy looked troubled, shaking her head fretfully. “Just pull oooooooh,” she began to beg, but her words became incoherent gurgling when Rocco’s fat fingers reached around to squeeze her windpipe shut. Throttling her throat, he pulled himself with one hand into the depths of my wife’s open womb.
Cindy’s face slowly turned crimson as he cut off her oxygen. Her body sagged into submission, her long blonde braid unspooling as he fucked her ferociously. I thought her head might pop like a dandelion as he increased the pressure around her throat.
Rocco banged her doggystyle until her pussy boiled over in orgasm, her body bucking wildly beneath him until he loosened his grip on her throat, moving his hand to her shoulder. “I’m cummmmmming!” she yowled in between taking great big gulps of air.
I lost count of how many orgasms poor Cindy was made to endure, but this round wracked her in waves, great billows of euphoric bliss buffeting her young body. She never came back from that pilgrimage into cosmic bliss — not really. Her mind was lost to sensuous pleasure. Even when she finally regained some measure of self-control, I could see from Cindy’s dilated pupils, ruddy cheeks, moist lips, billowing breasts, hard nipples and heavy breathing that she was primed for more.
While she was still floating in space, and his dick was still buried in her to the hilt, Rocco took advantage. “Do you want your rings back?”
“Yes,” she said weakly.
“Then tell me what I want to hear.”
She didn’t tell him anything at first; she just moaned. But it only took a few more pumps from the beast in her belly to send Cindy back into a frenzy, shaking as another orgasm rent her in pieces.
I continued edging myself. The sexual humiliation had me drugged out, penis in hand outside in the ice rink parking lot.
“Tell me.”
The screen from my phone lit my face like a demon in the darkness as I watched my wife lose her struggle with lust.
Her arms were stretched straight out in front of her, her head bowed low as Rocco concentrated all his power into blasting her pussy with his big dick. He had her dripping wet. I could see the silky sheen on his cock every time he pulled back and I could hear her girlish cries whenever he drilled back into her core.